Cut the Crap
by Big J Bonk
Summary: (Part 11 of Perfect AU) T.K.O. has a rather insightful conversation with someone who, under different circumstances, could very well have been his enemy. Oneshot. Now with official cover.


**Wow, I got this one up quick, didn't I? The biggest reason for that is probably that this is really short. Maybe even the shortest, if you don't count Calibration. The other reason is that I've basically had the entirety of this planned out in my head since like, Genitor, so writing it was easy. Still, my professional life is starting to gain some traction, meaning that I have less time than usual for my hobby stuff. It's a miracle I got this one up as soon as I did, despite the above stated reasons. The next one will probably be a decent ways away. And now I have two covers I need to make instead of just one. rip**

 **Well, here I go writing a character I've never written before. Wish me luck!**

* * *

"I need a haircut."

Carol startled from her place by the counter, where she had been brewing a pot of coffee. She turned her head, and standing in the doorway was T.K.O., still in his pajamas, his hair still mussed from sleep. He looked about ready to murder someone.

"Teeks. You're up earlier than usual," Carol remarked. "I haven't even started on breakfast yet. What will it be this morning? Waffles? Toast? Oatmeal?"

"A haircut," T.K.O. repeated. "I need. A haircut."

"Really? So soon? Huh, I could have sworn K.O. got his hair cut not that long ago. Are you sure you need one already?"

"It's getting too long," T.K.O. grumped. "I couldn't get back to sleep this morning because I kept getting hair in my mouth. Disgusting."

"Maybe you could start wearing a headband like the other boys," Carol suggested.

"Ugh, pass."

"Well, what about your ponytails?" Carol asked. "You like to wear those, don't you?"

T.K.O. snarled. "I am _not_ wearing those things in public. And if you _ever_ tell anyone I wear them at all, I'll... I'll stop letting you put them on me!"

Carol clutched at her heart, one hand laying across her forehead. "No, not our mother-son bonding activities!"

"No headbands, and no ponytails," T.K.O. reaffirmed. "I'm getting a haircut."

"...Oh, alright," Carol conceded, not sounding at all put-out. "I actually have to go to the dojo to teach a class today, and I _was_ going to ask Gene to watch over you while I was away-"

"Don't ever do that."

"-but this works out perfectly! I can drop you off at Logic Cuts, and pick you up once class is over." T.K.O. grunted in agreement. "So do you want the usual breakfast today, then?"

T.K.O. nodded. "Yes, yes I would... please."

"There it is," Carol smiled. "We'll go once you've eaten."

"Fine."

(~)

Once the pair had eaten and T.K.O. had gotten properly dressed, Carol drove him to the plaza. It wasn't very busy, since it was a Saturday, but the occasional hero could still be seen wandering around.

Carol got out of the tank-car, waiting for T.K.O. to do the same. "So Teeks," she said, "how do you want it cut today?"

T.K.O. shrugged. "I just wanna take an inch or two off, maybe."

"I'm sure that can be arranged!" Carol answered cheerily, handing him some cash. "Here's twelve technos. That should be just enough to cover the costs, plus a tip. Tell Mr. Logic that you want a trim, and he can handle the rest."

"I know how to ask for a haircut, mom," T.K.O. groaned, rolling his eyes as he wadded the bills up in his pocket.

"I know you do," Carol cooed. "When you get finished up, you can wait in one of the chairs, or you can come to the dojo, alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it."

Carol swept T.K.O. up in a quick hug before he had a chance to protest. "I'll see you in an hour, kiddo!"

As Carol left to teach her class, T.K.O. glanced around, flushed pink with embarrassment. When it appeared that no one had witnessed the event, he went inside Logic Cuts, shoulders hunched.

"Greetings, K.O.," Mr. Logic called evenly from across the room, where he had just finished shaving the back of Nick's neck. He approached T.K.O., swapping his tools out for his hands. "What mathematically perfect haircut would you like today?"

"It's T.K.O.," the alter corrected him, "not K.O. Woulda thought everyone got the memo by now."

"T.K.O., is it? My apologies, I don't think we've met before. I rarely leave this place outside of supply runs, you see. My name is-"

"I already know who you are," T.K.O. cut him off. "Why do you think I'm here?"

Mr. Logic straightened, though if he was offended his face didn't betray it. "Hm. I do suppose my name is on the sign, as is my profession. In any case, how would you like your hair cut for this visit?"

"Just a trim," T.K.O. replied, fishing out the required technos. "Just enough that it doesn't keep ending up in my face."

"Very well." Mr. Logic accepted the bills, flattening them out in one quick motion before pulling a cash drawer out of himself to insert them into. "If you'll have a seat, we can get started right away."

T.K.O. grunted, throwing himself into the nearest chair. Mr. Logic placed the barber cloth over his shoulders, only pausing to request that T.K.O. remove his choker. Once the boy complied, he got to work grooming T.K.O.'s locks.

Mr. Logic combed T.K.O.'s hair with smooth, easy strokes, gently undoing the knots and tangles. T.K.O. sighed, soothed by the repetitive motion. It took all of his willpower just to keep his eyes open. It was because of this that he felt comfortable enough to start a conversation. "So. You're a robot that cuts hair."

Mr. Logic kept combing. "Indeed I am."

"Do you actually _like_ doing it? Because I would get pretty bored if that was all I did every day."

The robot nodded. "I do like it, yes. Although I personally do not find it boring at all. I find it to be rather... calming."

"Hnn." T.K.O. paused. "So were you programmed to like it or something?"

"No," Mr. Logic told him. "While I do have a wide array of tools at my disposal, I was not designed with hairstyling purposes in mind. In fact, Boxman built me in order to perfect his own evil schemes. These tools simply aided me in doing so."

T.K.O. whipped around in his seat, eyes wide as saucers. "You're a Boxmore robot?! Then what are you doing _here?!_ "

"I do admit that it was a rather unprecedented outcome," said Mr. Logic, "and it is a rather long story, if you would like to hear it-"

"I'm getting a trim, I don't have time for a long story," T.K.O. interrupted. "Give me the short version."

"Very well. But if I may ask that you turn back around so that I may continue my work?" T.K.O. did so, and Mr. Logic resumed grooming his hair. "Many years ago, I witnessed Mr. Gar as he was in the process of building the plaza. I wanted to ask him why, but he had so much hair in his face that I was unable to make out his answer. I cut his hair, and realized that it felt good to cut hair. So I stayed here once the plaza was built so that I could do just that."

T.K.O. frowned, mulling over his words. "So you cut hair for the good guys, even though you were supposed to help the bad guys?"

"Correct."

The alter remained silent for a long time. Mr. Logic, satisfied that he had removed every last tangle, swapped out his comb for a small pair of scissors and began methodically snipping. "...So, it's none of your business or anything, but I have something I want to talk to you about. But you gotta promise that you won't tell anyone what I'm about to tell you. It's... personal."

Mr. Logic briefly stopped what he was doing, shooting a glance towards T.K.O.'s reflection so that they could make eye contact. "Of course. Many people come here to tell me their stories, and more often than not they are stories that are not mine to share. I assure you that whatever you are about to tell me will not make its way to anyone else."

They could very well have been empty words, but they were reassuring nonetheless. T.K.O. took in a breath, held it, and let it out. And then he spoke.

"...So basically, I've spent my whole life wondering what my purpose was. For all I knew, I was just a discarded figment of K.O.'s subconscious. What's something like that ever gonna amount to, right? Well, K.O. made me realize that it didn't matter, that even if that was the case, _I_ still mattered. I didn't know how I fit into everything. I just knew that I did, somehow.

"But this villain, Shadowy Figure, keeps complicating things. He's been coming after K.O. and me for as long as I can remember, and I still don't know exactly what he wants with me. But then I come to find out the villain's my _dad,_ but worse than that, he's all the worst parts of _Laserblast._ I realized that the guy had some sort of power that manifested as Shadowy Figure, which meant that I had to be K.O.'s power. So I guess my purpose is to be a villain just like him? K.O. keeps telling me I'm wrong, but deep down, I know that's all I'm good for anyway. I just know I'm destined to do bad things."

Mr. Logic snipped away in silence for a moment. "That sounds like quite the predicament you're in, T.K.O. My condolences."

"I don't want you to feel sorry for me!" T.K.O. snapped. He growled, gnashing his teeth. "I wanted you to... Whatever. I don't know what else I expected..."

"Ah. You were looking for my input."

"What?! No, I wasn't! I guess?! Maybe?! Grr, I don't know!"

"I see." Mr. Logic looked at T.K.O.'s reflection again. "Would you like me to offer calming platitudes, or give you advice as it relates to your particular situation?"

T.K.O. huffed. "If you're going to say anything to me at all, I want nothing but brutal honesty. I've had enough of people just trying to spare my feelings."

"Very well." The robot stopped cutting so that he could look directly at T.K.O. as he spoke. "If everything that you've told me is accurate, then your last statement does hold true. You do not know that K.O. is right. However, you do not know that he is wrong, either. You simply cannot base something as broad and vague as destiny on a single assumption. Ordinarily I would recommend that you gather more evidence so that you may have a more informed outlook on the situation, but seeing as your best source likely comes this Shadowy Figure you spoke of, who I know nothing about, I cannot suggest looking to him in good conscience."

"So what am I supposed to do then, huh?" T.K.O. demanded sourly.

"Well, the next best source would be yourself," Mr. Logic reasoned. "Your main concern seems to be becoming a villain, yes?"

"Uh, yeah, that's been established."

"Do you have any desire to become one?"

"Of course not!"

"Does the pain and suffering of others bring you joy or satisfaction?"

"Not really."

"Is your POW card negative?"

"...No."

"Then I see nothing conclusive that indicates that you will become a villain," Mr. Logic finished.

"But that's... It's not that simple!" T.K.O. shouted.

Mr. Logic tilted his head. "Oh? How come?"

"Because, it's just not!"

"You say this despite me showing you that your claim is unfounded," said Mr. Logic. "Unless there is more to this predicament, if you would fill me in."

T.K.O. grit his teeth. "I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm not exactly the heroic type. I've destroyed the plaza twice, I've got serious anger issues that I'm only recently figuring out how to manage, and everyone's too scared to come anywhere near me, and those that aren't are still practically walking on eggshells. Still want to tell me I'm one of the good guys?"

"T.K.O., there is a reason you are telling me these things," Mr. Logic said evenly. "You seem to harbor many negative emotions, which from my experience people are hesitant to share when said emotions are directed towards themselves. And yet you are sharing yours with me now, which indicates a sense of trust, if not even kinship. From this, I know that you value my words, so why do you refuse to listen to them?"

The alter sputtered at this, feeling both shocked and frustrated by the question. "I don't know! I don't know what I expected! I don't even know why I'm telling you _anything!_ It's not like you'd even understand anyway! You're just telling me the same stuff everyone else keeps telling me! 'You're not evil, T.K.O.! You would never do something like that, T.K.O.! You're gonna do great things, T.K.O.!' But how is saying any of that supposed to help?! How could they possibly help me when they! Don't! _Understand!_ " T.K.O.'s fingertips crackled, so he crossed his arms beneath the barber cloth, forcefully stuffing his hands under his armpits. He took in a shuddering breath, forcing his nerves to settle down. "...They don't understand. They _can't._ "

The two remained silent for a long time. At some point, Mr. Logic resumed cutting T.K.O.'s hair, smiling gently. "I think I do."

"Really?" T.K.O. grunted, almost a laugh, despite the humorlessness in his voice. "You're a robot that cuts hair."

"That is precisely why I understand." At the alter's confused, if dismissive, silence, he continued. "I was designed to be perfectly logical, yes, but my ultimate purpose was to bring destruction wherever possible. For all intents and purposes, I was the textbook definition of evil. And yet here I am before you, a denizen of the plaza who spends his days cutting hair and selling various hygiene products. Despite all my programming dictating that I be bad, I instead chose to do good, simply because I didn't want to be bad. It isn't my designated purpose that matters, you see. What matters is my own choices and desires."

T.K.O. looked up in the mirror at Mr. Logic, eyes wide and hopeful, but he forced his face into a disinterested mask. "...Okay. Let's say for now that you _do_ understand. You're a civilian. I'm a fighter, and a darn good one. I could destroy a building in two seconds flat if I wanted. Sometimes it's pretty tempting, too. Care to explain what's so 'good' about that?"

"Everyone has negative impulses, T.K.O.," Mr. Logic replied, "including myself. As much as I may be considered a hero, my dastardly programming is still very much present. All it took for me to stave off my villainous urges was the proper outlet. In my case, I quite enjoy bonsai trimming and listening to mathematically perfect music. But simply having these urges does not make someone bad."

T.K.O. was quiet for a moment. "...But if Shadowy Figure is a villain-"

"Irrelevant. A villain he may be, but that has little to no bearing on you. You clearly have no intention of becoming a villain yourself, so you will not become one. It's as simple as that. You say that people tell you this often, but it is true. Somebody else cannot choose your path for you. Only you are capable of that. If you want to be good, then it is only necessary that you strive to _be_ good."

T.K.O. didn't say anything. There wasn't really anything _to_ say.

With one final snip, Mr. Logic spun the chair around, giving T.K.O. a handheld mirror. "It is done. I hope it is to your satisfaction?"

T.K.O., only half paying attention, turned his head this way and that to inspect himself. It didn't really look any different, not that he wanted it to, but it definitely felt lighter. "...It's fine."

Mr. Logic smiled. "Excellent. I do hope you return soon."

T.K.O. rolled his eyes, his entire head following the motion. He slipped out of the chair, trading out the cloth for his choker. "Well, you're the only barber here, so I don't really have much choice except to come back, do I?" Still, he didn't sound angry. "My mom's class is probably almost over, so I better get going."

"Farewell, T.K.O.," Mr. Logic said with a curt nod.

The alter offered a two-finger wave, already halfway out the door. "See ya."

The walk to the dojo was a short one, and by the time T.K.O. passed through the doors, the class was still in session. He sat next to the entrance, passing the time by watching videos on K.O.'s phone.

It wasn't much longer, though, before the class was over. As the women all filed out, Carol approached T.K.O., wiping her brow. "Wow, your hair looks great, hon! How does it feel?"

T.K.O. fluffed his locks with one hand, distantly thinking about his earlier conversation with Mr. Logic. "...Better."

"Glad to hear it!" Carol boomed, ruffling his fresh 'do. "How's about we go home and see if we can do something new with this situation up here?"

"Mooom," T.K.O. whined, lightly swatting her hand away. "He barely cut any of it, so it's not like it's a new hairstyle or anything."

"Maybe so," Carol chortled, "but why don't we go ahead and do it anyway?"

"Alright, yeah, sure," T.K.O. groused, pointing a finger. "But don't do anything stupid to it, alright?!"

"No promises, kiddo," his mother chuckled.

But if T.K.O. was in a good enough mood to let her put his hair up in a braid, well, no one had to know.

* * *

 **T.K.O. knew exactly what he was doing when he told Mr. Logic his story. He just didn't want to say so because he didn't want any false reassurances. Also, he's basically adopted this robot by now.**

 **As a writer, I tend to add to a story as I go along, with only distant plot points to guide me, if anything. I didn't know fully what I was getting into when I gave T.K.O. (more) existential angst, but writing the end of Genitor, as well as Ego, I'd thought "Hmm, this seems a little familiar." So I knew I had to get these two to meet. Who better to offer comfort than someone who has experienced similar circumstances firsthand? It just isn't the same when the person offering it has no background or knowledge in the subject, right? About time someone understood our edgehog.**

 **T.K.O. isn't totally better, y'all. Mr. Logic just made him realize that Shadowy Figure plus kid did not equal Shadowy Turbo. But sadly, that's not enough to completely dispel his self-worth and identity issues. This stuff takes time, and T.K.O. is pretty slow on the uptake.**

 **Don't forget, you can ask the boys questions on Tumblr at askthreekaios, or me at bigjbonk. Seriously, don't be afraid to ask. We love questions, even if we can't get to them right away.**

 **So, the next story is going to take quite a while, most likely. I know what I'm going to write about, but I haven't started yet, and I don't know how long it will be. Plus life just being life. So, I guess, stay tuned!**


End file.
